“Oh, will you? That’s not fair!”
Jim laughed. “Go and talk to the handicapper, Ethel; use your wiles on the innocent man and explain the unfairness! I intended to put a couple of rupees, young ’un, on Spencer’s ‘Cabul’ for the sake of the corps, but this tyrant has forbidden the transaction. Never get engaged, lad; you see what it’s brought me to—I have to obey. She says that she objects to betting, but in reality she objects to my sticking up for my own regiment.”
“I’m ashamed of your relative, Ted,” the girl asserted. “He’s no brotherly feeling. Fancy wanting to bet against your mount!”
“It’s just like him!” the ensign feelingly declared. “I don’t understand how anyone so dainty as you, Ethel, could stoop to such an Orson.”
Ethel blushed and Jim exploded.
“Here, drop that, young ’un; you mustn’t trespass on my preserves. Fancy the kid paying a compliment of that kind! Why, little woman, he told me about ten days ago that you were ‘a very ordinary sort of girl’, and that ‘he didn’t see much in you’.”
“Well, he’s made up for it now. It was a very pretty compliment, Ted, and I thank you.... I often wonder myself.”
After the preliminary canter Ted brought his horse to the starting-post, where seven other competitors had already assembled. “The Padre” was not the technical favourite, yet he was decidedly the most popular horse there, for Captain Markham was better liked by the sepoys of the 193rd than any of the officers, although Colonel Woodburn and several of the others were highly popular with the men. The sepoys quite drowned all the other noises of the crowd by their vociferous acclamations, and the young rider was the recipient of numerous encouraging remarks and hearty good-wishes from his brother officers and from the ladies of the Aurungpore station.
Lieutenant Spencer’s black horse “Cabul” had now advanced to the position of first favourite. “Cabul” was easily the best-looking horse present, as his rider was the most handsome and perfect horseman. The officer of the Guides Cavalry sat like a centaur, and our hero saw at a glance that he could not hope to compete in “noble horsemanship” with his brother’s comrade. The black, however, seemed nervous and fretful, and his shoulders were lightly flecked with foam. Bahram Khan, the famous brigand chief, sat by Spencer’s side before they prepared for the start, soothing and caressing the noble beast as he talked earnestly to its rider.
“He’s a good horse,” observed Markham, “but he’s not perfect; his shoulders can’t compare with ‘The Padre’s’, and I doubt whether he’s quite so game, for mine enjoys it, and that’s not common in steeple-chasing. You should beat him down the hill.”